43
" -so that for these few moments it actually seems that Ruprecht could be right, that everything, or at least the small corner of everything that is the Seabrook Sports Hall, is resonating to the same chord, the same feeling, the one that over a lifetime you learn a million ways to camouflage but never quite to banish - the feeling living in a world of apartness, of distances you cannot overcome; it's almost as if the strange out-of-nowhere voice is the universe itself, some hidden aspect of it that rises momentarily over the motorway-roar of space and time to console you, to remind you that although you can't overcome the distances, you can still sing the song -- out into the darkness over the separating voids, towards a fleeting moment of harmony... "
― Paul Murray , Skippy Dies
51
" Pensa all’asimmetria. Questo è un mondo, pensa, in cui puoi startene a letto a sentire una canzone mentre sogni la persona che ami, e i tuoi sentimenti e la canzone si fanno eco a vicenda in modo così potente e completo che sembra impossibile che l’amata, chiunque e ovunque sia, non se ne accorga, non riceva il segnale che pulsa dal tuo cuore, come se tu e la musica e l’amore e tutto l’universo siate fusi in un’unica forza che può essere incanalata verso l’esterno, nell’oscurità, per portargli il messaggio. Ma nella realtà, non solo lei o lui non sapranno nulla, ma non c’è neanche qualcosa che impedisca a quell’altra persona di starsene a letto esattamente nello stesso momento a sentire esattamente la stessa canzone e pensare a qualcun altro - di indirizzare gli stessi sentimenti in una direzione del tutto differente, verso una persona completamente diversa, che a sua volta potrebbe starsene nel buio a pensare a un’altra persona, una quarta, che a sua volta pensa a una quinta, e così via all’infinito; e dunque, invece di un mondo di coppie che si ricambiano precisamente, dove l’innamorato e colei o colui che lo corrisponde solcano lo spazio in modo preciso e meraviglioso come tante paia di ali di farfalla, ci ritroviamo una catena di struggimenti, che si espande e si avvita su se stessa e finisce in un numero infinito di vicoli ciechi. "
― Paul Murray , Skippy Dies
55
" You know, you spend your childhood watching TV, assuming that at some point in the future everything you see there will one day happen to you: that you too will win a Formula One race, hop a train, foil a group of terrorists, tell someone 'Give me the gun', etc. Then you start secondary school, and suddenly everyone's asking you about your career plans and your long-term goals, and by goals they don't mean the kind you are planning to score in the FA Cup. Gradually the awful truth dawns on you: that Santa Claus was just the tip of the iceberg — that your future will not be the rollercoaster ride you'd imagined, that the world occupied by your parents, the world of washing the dishes, going to the dentist, weekend trips to the DIY superstore to buy floor-tiles, is actually largely what people mean when they speak of 'life'. Now, with every day that passes, another door seems to close, the one marked PROFESSIONAL STUNTMAN, or FIGHT EVIL ROBOT, until as the weeks go by and the doors — GET BITTEN BY SNAKE, SAVE WORLD FROM ASTEROID, DISMANTLE BOMB WITH SECONDS TO SPARE — keep closing, you begin to hear the sound as a good thing, and start closing some yourself, even ones that didn't necessarily need to be closed. "
― Paul Murray , Skippy Dies